Before my attempt to have a nap this afternoon, I felt like I was having loads of ideas to write on this blog. But then I involved in quite a long thread of WhatsApp conversation with family and friends. After that, my eyes were still sore, but they refused to shut and I could not sleep at all, don't know why. I was too lazy to connect to internet and all the hassles of even turn on the computer. Nor television.
After watching an almost 2 hours duration of The Insider, I was a bit affected and tired of watching anything audio visual. The story is about a whistle blower in a prominent and powerful tobacco company , namely Brown and Williamson in the US. Somehow, even in a very minuscule scale, I felt a sort of bond with the story. I myself have been in a sort of similar situation. I remember the accusation in the movie against Dr. Wigand: "poor communication skills". I received the same accusation too when I was in Ox***. I was sent a Power Point presentation file from the Regional Director that explains how to communicate in a more 'polite', diplomatic way, not hurting or offense other people. So my problem was "poor communication skills" too. Helloooo...those who were offended by my 'communication' were those who were guilty of oppressing their subordinates, and when I 'communicated' it (without mentioning any names, without pointing out fingers to certain people), they felt offended. The plot is classic. Looking for the whistle blower's past mistakes, threaten the whistle blower, and the broken promise of protecting his/her identity. An agreement of confidentiality, that's also what I've signed before I departed, -through my lawyers from a local Legal Aid Foundation.
Darn, I was just telling my story to a friend last night, and today I watched the movie that resembles my case. I thought I buried my story for quite long already. And suddenly it came out like resurrecting from the grave. Making me recall those days when I went round and round to the legal aid office for series of consultation, alone. When I stayed up late to type my case's chronology alone with the radio and television only accompanying me. When I was angry being told to stay off the office and they took my SIM card away and asked me to return all office's properties, and guarded me away from the office like a criminal. When I must face all the unjust trials that all ended up with only one kind of decision: that I was guilty. All the bitter memories I swept under my conscience.
But no, I chose not to lost the battle of guts. Not to be defeated by the evil I fought. Not to be a bitter person that they expected me to be. I stopped, took breath, and by divine intervention, I got the scholarship that I'd been attempted to pursue for so many years. I believe, the divine power knew what time's best for me. HE did not give me the award in the previous, or the previous, or previous year, because those were not the years I most needed it. The year I most needed the scholarship was the year I'd just been tortured. The scholarship was meant to heal my wounds. I believe HE knew, HE just knew which one's best. It's not a coincident. So I must learn more and more, to trust everything in HIM. Every single thing.
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